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Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, read more
Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!
A man of great memory without learning hath a rock and a spindle and no staff to spin.
A man of great memory without learning hath a rock and a spindle and no staff to spin.
Our memory is like a shop in the window of which is exposed now one, now another photograph of the read more
Our memory is like a shop in the window of which is exposed now one, now another photograph of the same person. And as a rule the most recent exhibit remains for some time the only one to be seen.
Every man's memory is his private literature.
Every man's memory is his private literature.
Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,
And many friends I've met;
Not one fair scene or read more
Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,
And many friends I've met;
Not one fair scene or kindly smile
Can this fond heart forget.
Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet read more
Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet not good enough to recollect how often we have told it to the same person?
Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start
When Memory plays an old tune on the heart!
Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start
When Memory plays an old tune on the heart!
The palest ink is better than the best memory.
The palest ink is better than the best memory.
Recollection is the only paradise from which we cannot be turned out.
Recollection is the only paradise from which we cannot be turned out.
